A Victim of Circumstance
by Lustiel's Journal
Summary: Companion piece to 'A Prison of One's Own Making'. Set during Dean's portion of Chapter 17. Contains the more graphic details of what happened to Sam while in captivity. Dark. See inside for warnings.
1. Sold

I know that what is below will not be everyone's cup of tea, thus I separated it from 'A Prison of One's Own Making'. This is the first of several chapters, though my primary focus is finishing the original story. It takes place during Dean's section of Chapter 17.

**Warnings:** M/F rape, M/M rape, drug use, graphic torture, murder. Don't like, don't read.

I don't know why I write this stuff, maybe it's a way of dealing with my own assault/rape, maybe it's because it's a logical addition to the story, maybe... I don't know. Brains are weird. I'm so sorry I do this to you, Sam.

Title comes from the Billy Joel song 'My Life'.

* * *

When he awoke, the blood from his latest killing had been washed away and he was dressed in black tight-fitting boxer shorts. He seemed to be in a small storage room, illuminated with a naked bulb above his head. He noticed he was in a new cage, one big enough for him to stand if he wanted. Not that it mattered: he was still trapped. The air was warm enough that he wasn't cold, but goosebumps crawled over his skin anyway. He could hear muffled voices but he didn't have the energy to listen. Again, it didn't matter. It never did.

After what could have been minutes or hours, two men dressed in black grabbed the sides of his new cage and pulled him forward. He was told to 'stand up and stay still'. Flaps of fabric were pulled back and bright lights blinded him. At first, he couldn't tell where he was, only that he was somewhere with a lot of people, if the gasps and murmurs were anything to go by. As his eyes adjusted, the words he heard made sudden, horrible sense.

"On to our next item, number 67. I'm sure many of you are here for this! Having inspected the item myself, I can't say I blame you! Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, Sam Winchester, hunter extraordinaire, demon spawn, and the man who started the Apocalypse! We will be offering several bidding levels, as our purveyor has described several unique attributes, which I can attest are genuine: Tier 1 bids will begin at $500 per hour, where he shall be released to you as a defenseless toy for your unrelegated pleasure. Tier 2, beginning at $1000 per hour, gives you a fighter with superhuman strength and a wicked temper. This is fueled by treatment with demon blood, which will of course be provided with your winning bid. And lastly, in an item so unique I am tempted to bid myself, Tier 3, for a starting price of $1000 plus $1500 per hour, you have the ability to make your own snuff film with this beast, as he is cursed with eternal resurrection at the hand of the fallen archangel himself, Lucifer! I assure you this is a real item. We can confirm inventory for the next week, with the potential for two more weeks after that. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, folks."

The crowd broke out in a boisterous display, questions flying, insults raging, and excited mouths babbling.

Benji slammed the gavel a few times to silence everyone. "Obviously there will be limits on the number of sessions per day, but we will do our best to accommodate everyone. If you are unable to secure a session this evening, we may be able to come to an arrangement. Please also keep in mind that this is only the first week's offering. Though, I feel I should add, I expect demand will increase exponentially." He turned his head to take a look at the cowering figure and smiled in anticipation. "Alright, due to the short notice, we are offering one session tonight, a Tier 1 option. All tiers will be available throughout the rest of the week. So, can I get $500 for an hour with Sam Winchester this evening, from 11 pm-12 am?"

"$500!" a number of voices called out.

"$550!" a blonde woman shouted.

"$575!" a dark-skinned man with silver hair countered.

"$600," a British accent answered.

"$650," the blonde offered.

Up and up it went until the blonde woman shouted out "$1800!", a $200 increase over the previous bid, and no one challenged her.

"Sold!" Benji called out as he banged the gavel.

She suppressed her squeal of delight and eyed the man in the cage with unconcealed excitement. She was going to be the first.

"Congratulations! Please visit the atrium desk to secure your winning bid. Okay, on to tomorrow, starting at 8 am. We will schedule Tier 1s first, then Tier 2s, followed by individual Tier 3 requests. We'll start with a one hour Tier 1. Can I get $500?"

* * *

After being forced to stand on display for over an hour as the most vile sector of society placed bids on his body, his muscles were exhausted and unresponsive. Despite his best efforts, he toppled to the ground when he tried to move as the cage door opened and then remained limp as Creedy and another man carried him from the cage to the bed. They pulled down his boxers once he was on his back. His wrists were drawn above his head and chained to the headboard, his pale skin stark against the bloodred sheets. His legs were spread apart and bound to the sides of the bed with soft rope, leaving him completely vulnerable and exposed.

Creedy approached with a water bottle and something in his hands. "I know you probably won't play along with this, so here's something to help."

He clenched his jaw shut and turned away, the greatest act of resistance he could muster.

"C'mon, don't be like that. It's just scopolamine and boner pills, and some acid to take the edge off. It'll make it easy for you."

He kept his head to the side but it was ultimately futile. Strong hands gripped his face, held his nose shut, and pried his mouth open, a flashback of how this nightmare began blurring his perception. As before, the survival instinct ultimately won out and his mouth opened against his will. The pills were stuffed in and water poured down his throat. He choked and sputtered on the lukewarm liquid but a hand clamped over his mouth and he had no choice but to swallow. The hands lifted from his face and he was left alone for the drugs to take effect.

Time drifted by aimlessly, his thoughts becoming more and more distorted as everything worked its way into his system. He barely even registered the sound of the door opening and closing until a dazzle of blonde hair caught his eye.

"Oh aren't you just beautiful, all trussed up here for me. You know, I was worried I'd spent too much, but clearly, you are more than worth it!"

The sound of a zipper being opened filtered into his brain as majestic little waterfalls crashing down inside an anthill. The image made no sense and he pondered it, barely aware of what was happening outside his mind, until he felt movement. The bed dipped and he felt himself afloat on a calm ocean. Something like vines crawled around him and then there was bright gold in his face, no it was hair, blonde hair. Lips danced up his chest to his neck, to his face, to his own mouth. A hot tongue searched for entry and he was powerless to resist. Fingers ran through his hair, tucking it behind his ear, and the act ignited something within him, something he had long since suppressed.

Jess used to do that to him, especially when he was worried. He would be venting about some exam or the stress of balancing school and work, and she would lean over to him and put a hand to his cheek before sliding her hand up to corral a loose strand behind his ear. Eventually he learned to lean into the touch, taking the comfort being offered without a fight. As if working on muscle memory, his body did the same now.

When he opened his eyes, Jess was smiling at him, her perfect lips inviting him to banish all his anxiety. The corners smirked up a little more and Sam swallowed hard, knowing exactly what she was thinking. He bit his own lip, anticipation humming along his nerves.

The fingers tangled in his hair gave a slight tug before sliding out to slip down his body. Delicate hands caressed his thighs in an all-too-familiar way and when he craned his head up to look, Jess was there, all delicate curls, white teeth, and bedroom eyes. A soft touch traced along his shaft and he couldn't, didn't want to, stop the rush of blood greeting her interest.

She arranged herself over him, her hair a glowing halo around her head. She lowered herself down slightly and smiled. "Oh, baby," she murmured, rubbing herself back and forth on him, teasing him with her wetness.

"Ugh, please," he begged, his voice raspy from disuse.

"You're so fucking hot when you beg," Jess said before dropping herself onto him and plunging him deep inside her warmth. His head was thrown back involuntarily, his body unable to comprehend the confusing rush of stimuli. She swirled her body around him and hummed with pleasure. She leaned forward and lavished his neck with kisses and bites as she ground into him.

"God, Jess," he mumbled, his hips bucking under her, trying to lodge himself deeper. She began bobbing up and down on him, careful to almost separate their bodies before taking in his full length again. He squirmed against his restraints, whimpering.

She leaned down and whispered into his ear. "What do you want, my precious toy?"

He frowned slightly, that didn't sound like something Jess would say. But her smile, her voice, the feel of her skin on his, it had to be her, it just had to be. And wasn't she everything he'd ever wanted in life?

"I want you, baby, I want whatever you want," he said breathlessly.

"Then get up and fuck me. That sound good?"

"Yes, God, yes!" he replied loudly, the sound of his blood pumping through his ears distracting him.

The body over him slithered away and he heard voices. The words reached his ears but they didn't make sense.

"Untie him so he can move."

"Ma'am, all due respect, but I don't think that's a good idea."

"He's not on demon blood, so this should be perfectly safe!"

"Yes, but, he is still fairly strong and he could hurt you."

"I signed a goddam waiver, did I not? I'm the one paying here and I should be able to use him how I please! Now fucking untie him!"

"Y-yes, ma'am."

Hands fluttered around his wrists and ankles but he was quickly pulled away from those sensations by a hand enclosing his length. He breathed in deeply and enjoyed the subtle fragrance of Jess's perfume. It made him even harder; he'd forgotten how he used to roll over into her pillow when she left for a morning class before him and inhale her scent. Sometimes that was enough to make him hard and he'd be left to decide whether to satisfy himself or wait for her to return. Always one to understand the value of delayed gratification, he usually waited for her.

"Sweetie," she cooed, her hands gently pumping. "You ready?"

"As I'll ever be!" He pushed himself up and got to his knees. He grabbed her shoulders and swung her down, pressing her into the bed. "You're gonna regret teasing me so much," he growled playfully.

"Oh really? And why's that?"

"'Cause I'm gonna tease you right back!" He landed his mouth on her nipple, his eager tongue swirling around the raised tissue. One hand massaged her other breast, the free hand sliding down into her wetness. He found her clit and began to stroke it expertly, enough to send jolts of frustrated pleasure up her spine but not enough for any type of satisfactory release. His teeth gently grazed her nipple and she groaned.

"Dammit you were right," she cried, wavering on the edge for the eighth time in a minute.

"Yeah?" he asked, his voice muffled as his mouth hungrily sucked on her breast.

"I regret teasing you so much! Mercy!"

"You wish!" he responded with a smile, his lips still around her as he dove a finger into her. She bucked and whimpered, the familiar sound testing his self-control. He thought about pushing himself further, but God, what was the point? He couldn't even remember the last time he'd slept with Jess and _fuck_, he just wanted to be in her so goddam bad.

He brought his head up and slid down her form. He grinned at her before lining himself up and plunging in suddenly, relishing the way her surprised body clenched around him. He began pumping in and out of her slowly, appreciating the sounds of pleasure he was drawing from his beloved. It was one thing to enjoy yourself, something else entirely to bring the woman you love to ecstasy. He raised her feet to his shoulders and slowly sped up his pace, repeatedly pressing that exact spot that made her crazy, that made her move like the goddam ocean, that made him feel like he was one with her. He felt her come, hard, his cock wrapped in her warm, shuddering embrace. He almost let himself go over, but he bit his lip and held on. She'd rode him, now it was time to return the favor.

"Roll over," he commanded, dropped her legs, and lifted himself away from her. She obeyed immediately, even though she seemed out of breath.

He wasted no time in burying himself in her again, this time with all the desperate vigor borne of two lovers too long separated. He closed his palms around her shoulders, pounding into her, pulling her weight against him. She was crying out beneath him, all groans and grunts and yells, and he was so damn close, all he needed was – he fisted his hand in her blonde hair and pulled back gently. The spark of pleasured pain that spiked through her body was the extra stimulus he needed and he moaned as he came, pleased both of them could reach completion. He stayed inside her, the two of them panting, clinging too closely to the available air to speak.

Once the euphoria of the orgasm waned, patches of his vision seemed to dull in color. He blinked hard and his surroundings wavered, the woman below him Jess and then not Jess and then Jess again, as if his mind was trying to choose which version was reality. He weakly shook his head and when he opened his eyes, the blonde was decidedly _not_ Jess. In a rush, everything came back to him, her death, her hair splayed out around her perfect face as she burned, their father's death, his death, Dean's death, death, death, death, it was the only constant in his life. He fell forward towards the side and gasped for breath, forcing himself to breathe.

A hand caressed his face. "I know, I enjoyed it, too." The woman rose out of bed and got dressed. She leaned down and murmured into his ear "You'll be seeing me again soon. I know I'll be thinking about you, monster." She tussled his hair and walked away.

_Monster._

_Jess._

_Life._

_Death._

He buried his face in the pillow and sobbed.

* * *

At least they had the decency to wait until he stopped crying. Or maybe that was just how long it took them to wrap everything up with the woman. They injected him with a little more sedative before sponging him down. The water was cool and their hands were uninterested, but it felt like an additional violation. More eyes seeing and more hands touching things that were meant to be his. They roughly dried him off with scratchy towels and unceremoniously dumped him back in the cage. He was moved to a car and brought to a new location. The new bedroom was much more ornate than the utilitarian fuckroom he'd been in before. The bed had soft silky beige sheets and a carved headboard. His handlers flipped him over and chained him up so that he was face-down. It only took a few seconds for him to realize the implications, but his muscles didn't respond to his rallying cry to fight. The attendants left and he awaited his fate in silence.

The door opened and a deep voice hummed approvingly. He kept his eyes closed, anything to pretend this wasn't happening.

The door slipped shut and the man shrugged out of his jacket.

"My name is Benjamin."

Benjamin walked over to the bed and placed a hand on the small of his back.

"They told me this is your first time with a man, so I'll start gentle, okay?"

The hand moved to pet his hair while another stroked down his back. The man spent several minutes just feeling all of his body, learning his tender points and tracing the sigils. He heard the man stand and undress, before returning and spreading his body over him.

The man nuzzled his face into his hair and breathed in deeply. "Mmm you smell so damn good," he murmured. Benjamin slowly lowered his hips so that his hardness was grazing the exposed buttocks shaking slightly beneath him.

Soft, eager moans escaped his new master's throat and he felt the man's dick pressing into him. The weight pinning him eased and he took in a relieving lungful of air, not even minding that it smelled vaguely of the man's tuna sandwich breath. The momentary respite was interrupted by the sound of a bottle being squeezed and then hands spreading his cheeks apart. Cold deluged his entrance and he instinctively clenched, refusing the finger that was seeking access.

"Shh, just let me in, it'll be easier if you don't fight…"

Tears spilled from his eyes and he tried to suppress a sniffle.

"Aww, baby boy, don't cry." Benjamin leaned forward over him and a finger caught a tear and traced it up. "I'll be sure to make it good for you, too. Don't worry, you'll see…"

He forced himself to relax, knowing that resistance was futile. The more he fought, the more it would hurt. He allowed the finger to slide past the tense ring of muscle and it was as if another iceberg was chipped off the shrinking continent of his soul.

"God, boy, you are so fucking _tight_," he moaned lustily, swirling his finger more quickly. Another one wormed its way into the slick space and began scissoring to open him up.

He mewled in discomfort and Benjamin slowed down, bringing his hand up to massage his new pet's hip. "I'm sorry, I just got excited. Here, we'll do one more then I think you'll be ready."

He wanted to shake his head no, he wanted to scream for this to stop, but those were not options available to him. All he could do was lay there and take it. He was nothing, just a thing to be used as others desired, with no regard for his wants or needs. _Well, I'm a monster, what should I expect, VIP service?_

The third finger slid in and stretched him even wider. He flinched at the initial movement but the cooing voice above urged him to loosen up. He was worked until he could barely feel it anymore. _Maybe this won't be that bad…_ he told himself, though he knew he was probably being overly optimistic.

The invasive digits pulled out of him and left him feeling oddly empty. He didn't have to wait long until Benjamin placed a hand on either cheek, spread him apart, and lined himself up. He could feel a hard warmth pressed against him and his body tightened against his will.

"C'mon sugar, let daddy in. I don't wanna hurt you, c'mon…" Benjamin gently thrust his hips minutely so the muscles would get used to the sensation and relax. He felt them give slightly and took advantage of the opportunity. He pressed in slowly but firmly, almost losing his mind at the way the boy hugged around him _so. fucking. tightly. _

The immense burst of pressure and pain caught him off guard and he yelped before biting the pillow. Benjamin withdrew then re-entered, burying himself all the way. He threw his head back and turned to the side, trying to breathe through the physical discomfort and the weirdness of the sensation. Benjamin pushed into him and leaned down, his head nuzzling into his hair. "You feel like Heaven," he breathed, sinking further in. "Mmm… you're a natural… I bet I'll have you taking cock without any prep in no time!" he said excitedly, the odd word here and there punctuated by his thrusts.

Benjamin worked at a steady pace to open him up until he felt like he could do as he pleased. His captive wasn't expecting the change in angle, nor the sudden flare of pleasure that rippled through him.

"See, I told you I'd take care of you, too. That was your prostate. And I'll hit it all night long if you let me."

He opened his eyes in alarm, but something caught his gaze, distracting him from the physical sensations assaulting him. A little square of blackness poised in the room with a tiny blinking red light. Humiliation swept through him as he realized this was being filmed. He was being filmed. A violent slew of thoughts careened through the mountains of his mind, a jumbled mess of all the ways this was messed up and horrible and wrong. But more than anything else, he feared what would happen if Dean saw this. What would Dean think of him if he saw him like this, quietly taking this degrading abuse like a common whore? As if everything else he'd done, all the other ways he'd failed weren't enough, he had to add _this_ to the Everest-sized pile.

Another surge of delicious sensation shot up his nerves and inundated his brain, but it wasn't nearly enough to extinguish the shame filling his being. A permanent record for all the world to see, an ode to his weakness and complete defeat.

Benjamin made use of his partner's distracted indecision and thrusted in and out of him eagerly, gathering up every moment of joyous contact. He decided he needed more, he needed to be in complete control. He could tell the young man's spirit was well on its way to breaking. Between everything Creedy had told him and what he had experienced today, soon the Adonis would be clay in his hands. The thought of owning the exquisite specimen quivering beneath him filled him with renewed vigor. He anchored his hands on the shoulders beneath him and began to relentlessly pound the gorgeous ass, drawing gasping cries from his pet. With such exalted music in his ears, it wasn't long before he brought himself to release inside the warm sheath. He moaned loudly and praised the body so generously milking him of his seed with its intense trembling. "You are such a beautiful little slut… You are perfect in every way and I am so grateful I could be the first to have your delicate ass."

Rasping sobs reached him and he grinned. Step one was breaking the foal. Step two was showing the foal who was in command. Sliding his fingers down from the shaking shoulders, he wrapped them around the convulsing neck and pressed in. His captive was in too much shock to struggle meaningfully, but Benjamin enjoyed the brief battle nonetheless, the frantic pulses of frightened muscles hugging his cock and making him feel high. As he felt the creature still beneath him, he leaned down into the sweaty locks, finding the boy's ear.

"Next time, I want you to call me Master Benji."

* * *

I have no experience with drugs, so I apologize if my characterizations are incorrect.

Let me know if there's anything you want in particular, all forms of torture included!

Reviews are love!


	2. Opposites

Really hoping to get the last chapter of 'A Prison of One's Own Making' out soon, but life has been kicking my ass. Here's some fucked up shit in the mean time!

* * *

He opened his eyes to warm water kissing every inch of his skin. Not just warm water, but bubbles. _Bubbles?_ He looked around quickly and saw he was in an ornate bathroom with a jacuzzi-like bathtub. He tried to lift his arms but found they were handcuffed to the slip bars on either side of him.

A voice spoke up behind him and he flinched at the sound. "I know, I'm sorry, but they're just a precaution. Can't have you cutting your stay with us short." The man, Benjamin—no— he wanted to be called Benji, moved into view and sat on a plush chair facing him. His smile was inviting but his eyes were razor sharp. "I'm sure there are going to be just so many people eager to meet you." He pushed the arms of his bathrobe up and came to kneel by the edge of the tub, his knees cushioned by a monogrammed pillow. "I know I just can't keep my hands off you."

Benji grabbed an identically monogrammed washcloth and began to scrub his body down. He started with his face, gently wiping any grime away, before moving down to his neck, his broad chest, his arms, his back. As he scrubbed his thighs, fingers and soft cloth ghosted over his flaccid dick and he couldn't help but blush with shame. "No need to be embarrassed, pet, this is what you were made for! You're so beautiful, so perfect, I just—ugh!" The man flung the rag away and dove his hand under the sweet-smelling bubbles. He quickly found the young man's cock and began to massage him expertly, fingers slipping down to caress his balls and slide along his taint.

Despite himself, despite how much he hated a stranger's hands in his most vulnerable area, he felt his body start to respond. The warm, soapy water let Benji's hand slide over him gracefully and just for a second, he told himself this felt good, this felt nice. As if that was all the permission necessary, his cock filled entirely and strained forcefully against his abuser's palm.

"My, little pet, I didn't know you were so eager for me! But we can't have you ruining the fun." The pressure left him for a moment and then the hand was sliding something over his member, something that landed at his base and hugged him tightly. Too tightly. _What the—_

"You look confused. Have you never worn a cock ring before?"

He looked down, trying to see through the bubbles.

A finger under his chin lifted his head. "I asked you a question. I expect an answer."

"N-no," he stuttered.

"No, what?"

It took him a second before he realized what the older man wanted. "No, Master Benji."

"Good boy. Now, I'll take it off before it hurts you too much, but like I said, can't have you cutting the fun short. I'm going to unlock the cuffs and I expect you to behave. Nothing good will come from disobedience."

That was something he already knew too well.

Benji removed the cuffs and held out a hand to help him stand. He took it and pushed himself to standing. Benji rinsed the suds off and he didn't miss the way the man licked his lips as he scanned his body. His cock was still standing at full attention, the ring preventing any release.

"Go lay on the bed, on your back, arms up." He thought about refusing, but a quick glimpse of a cattle prod resting on the sink changed his mind.

He went to the beige bed and saw the ropes hanging down from the headboard. He swallowed against all the alarm bells raging in his mind and forced himself onto the silky sheets. Benji was right behind him to tuck his wrists into the soft bamboo ropes. He must have measured it beforehand because the length was just enough to keep him hopelessly restrained but not enough to cut into his bruised skin.

The bed dipped as Benji crawled on top of him and straddled his legs. He lifted his head to see what was happening but instantly decided he didn't want to know, so he let it drop back down onto the pillow. _Ah, a pillow._ When was the last time he had one of these?

"Now, baby boy, I don't want you to feel like you have to be quiet, okay? You can make as much noise as you want. I like 'em loud, okay?"

"Y-yes, Master Benji."

"Such a smart cookie," his captor said as he patted his hip.

Without warning, wet warmth rained down on his cock and he couldn't contain his gasp of pleasure. A heavy tongue slid down his length and back to the top before swirling around his head. He tried to stop his throat from releasing a lusty groan but his body was acting without his permission. The expert ministrations made him think of Ruby and his mind was cruelly torn between current shame and remembered ecstasy. He longed for the taste of her blood on his lips and he hated himself for it. Looking back, he realized he'd fallen for her trap head over heels. By the end, he probably would have done anything for her. _Well, you did,_ he chastised himself. _You started the end of the world!_

Fingers squeezing his balls slammed him back into the present and further shame engulfed him as he became aware of his desperate, thrusting hips. It only served to encourage his master who slid up and down his cock with increasing speed.

Hands slid under him and started playing with his hole. _No!_ his mind screamed but his erection pulsed with excitement. The fingers were slippery with oil or lube and slid into him much more easily than he would have expected. Was he that much of a slut that he'd give way after being fucked once?

He didn't have much time to ponder the thought as Benji quickly found his prostate and began to tease him. He'd bring him right to the edge then back off, leaving him increasingly anxious and needy. His dick began to ache painfully and he squirmed as growing waves of discomfort rolled through him.

He was eventually reduced to begging. "Please…" he said quietly, despising the feeling of the word in his mouth.

Benji lifted off of his cock with a loud smack of his lips. "Please what?"

"Please… Please just fuck me…"

"Please just fuck me, what?"

He bit his lip in frustration and detested every syllable but said it anyway. "Please just fuck me, Master Benji."

"You got it, sweetheart," Benji said, sliding up to kiss him before putting his captive's legs on his shoulders. "You think you're ready for me?"

"Y-yes."

"You think you deserve me?"

"I hope so, Master," he offered, unsure.

"You hope so or you know so?"

"I-I know so," he answered more confidently.

"That's a good boy!" Benji praised as he thrust himself into the waiting hole.

His pet released a surprised yelp and he reveled in the sound. "If I ride you hard, are you gonna sing for me?"

"Yes, yes, Master," he cried, frantic for release. Benji bore into him and he writhed on the man's cock, simultaneously flushed with shame but desperate for more. A hand wrapped around his dick and began to pump in time with the thrusts and he encouraged his hips to keep pace, pushing his body forward to accept every forceful movement. With his slave taking such enthusiasm in the activity, it didn't take long for the master to climax.

"Come with me, baby, come on!" Benji reached forward and pulled the ring from his dick. The man pulled back then thrust in one more time, hitting his prostate so hard that the resulting orgasmic flash of light that tore through his senses ripped away his awareness and his arched back fell limply into the bed.

* * *

When he awoke, he was in a large warehouse room.

A massive painted devil's trap covered the entire floor and he knew he was screwed. The sudden sting of the needle in his neck was hardly a surprise, but it was quickly forgotten in the rush of velvety power that inundated his mind. He was thrown carelessly onto the cold floor and he was grateful they'd allowed him his clothes; the rough concrete would certainly have taken a tax in skin.

He knew the blood made him arrogant but he didn't care. The strength it gave him was his only weapon against these goddam psychos who were paying to torture him. "Don't you fucking touch me," he snarled, hoping his black eyes would give them pause.

Instead, it only invited their abuse.

"You signed away all your rights the moment you let the devil out."

"Maybe even before that. I heard he's been whoring around with demons since his brother died."

"Fucking traitor. You deserve everything comin' to you and more!"

"Bet those black eyes match your soul, you goddam monster."

It didn't take long for the verbal abuse to graduate to physical strikes. His nose was the first to broken by a swift kick to his face. More kicks followed the first, then hammers and crowbars. A constellation of bruises welled up over his body, dark stars soon connected haphazardly by switchblades and knives.

And still he tried to fight back, unwilling to bow this suffering with complacence. He'd been sufficiently warded such that his abilities were blocked, but they hadn't restrained him at all. He tried to block himself or grab slow moving legs, but it was ultimately futile.

A solid boot to the temple sapped his strength and he melted against the floor.

"Finally!" an irritated voice said. "Let's get him ready."

He heard the flick of a lighter and his alarm ignited afresh. He fucking hated fire. But his body refused to cooperate with his commands and he was powerless to stop them as they burned the clothes off his body. The smell of burnt hair and singed skin wafted through the warehouse and he felt himself drowning in the nausea those all-too-familiar scents induced.

Hands grasped his wrist and dragged him over to the makeshift cross he'd seen leaning against the wall. He was hoisted up and pressed against the wood. More hands tied his wrists and ankles to the beams. Dark laughter reached his ears and he struggled to hold his head up and see what was happening. He regretted his decision.

Two hunters were approaching him, one with a large mallet and another with three oversized metal spikes. His brain quickly put two and two together: he was going to be crucified! Demon or not, this wasn't something he wanted to experience! He started to panic and began writhing against the restraints, but even powered up with the blood, he was too weak to escape. Someone grabbed his arms from behind and forced him to be still.

"Now this might hurt," the man with the spike teased as the cool metal was placed over his wrist. He shook his head, his black eyes pleading for release.

"Don't, please," he begged, which earned satisfied smiles from his torturers.

"But remember, you asked for it. This is what happens to false prophets. You thought you were saving the world but instead damned us all. This is your just punishment!" With that, the hunter swung the hammer with all his might and drove the spike through the trapped wrist.

He had hoped to spare his pride and keep silent, but the moment the metal cracked bone and severed his median nerve, all bets were off. He screamed so hard he felt like his vocal cords were going to rip.

He passed out as the second spike was driven through his left wrist.

* * *

When he came to, a new discomfort was growing in his hips. Looking down, he saw his legs were cranked out beyond their natural range. A spreader bar was locked between his feet and he realized this wasn't just about physical torture.

Suddenly, hands sprung up and he felt a flurry of movement around his mouth and then cold pressed up against his teeth. He tried to close his mouth but found he was unable. His tongue discovered a metal circle propping his mouth open. Something else scraped across his cheeks and dug into his flesh.

"Aww, aren't you just adorable. That looks so nice on you!"

He tried to snarl but the sound came out as a pathetic whimper instead.

The man swung his leg over his chest and unbuttoned his jeans. He slid a hand into his boxers and began pumping. "If I thought you'd behave, I woulda skipped the gag. But I was warned you'd probably bite. Guess every animal needs to be trained." He continued working himself for a few more seconds before pulling his underwear down and waving his dick in his captive's face. "Now, you're gonna be nice to him or else crucifixion will just be the start. Got it?"

He nodded silently, a mix of anger and fear fighting for control.

"Good. Open wide!" the man joked before shoving his cock through the metal ring and into his mouth. "Oh, fuck," the guy moaned, surprised with how easily his whole length fit into this man's mouth. He took his time, slowly pumping in and out to catch every sensation he could. "Use your tongue, bitch," the man commanded. He refused so the man grabbed a hammer and swung it against his left wrist as the man forced his cock down his throat. His body's natural reaction was to scream but all it did was press his throat tighter around the man's dick. "Holllyyyyy shiiiiitttttttt," he groaned, his head falling backwards in delight. The man fucked into his face more vigorously, repeatedly bashing the staked wrist. "Oh, uh God, I'm gonna, here it comes," he murmured hurriedly. He pulled out and allowed his come to splash out over the captive's face, thick globs dripping from his brow into his eyes and onto his lips.

The man huffed in relief and exertion. "Damn, that is one fine mouth. James, you wanna get over here and make it double? I think I'd be ready to go again in a few minutes." The man over him went to the wall and started cranking something. The chain started clinking and he could feel his legs and pelvis slowly be raised towards the ceiling via the spreader bar. It left his backside vulnerable while still allowing for someone to be by his head. _Oh God, oh fuck, please, no, no, not this…_

"Hah, look how panicked he is," the other man, James, commented. "Who's the big, bad demon now?" he mocked before swinging another hammer against his right wrist. This time he could scream unencumbered and the shrill cry echoed around the vast room.

"Just wait til he does that when you're down his throat. Fucking magical," his first abuser explained.

James swung himself over their captive's body and grinned at the false bravado. "

Another dick was shoved into his throat, this one bigger and thicker than the last, and he felt like he was suffocating. So distracted by the desperate struggle to breathe, he didn't notice the other man until a hard cock rammed into his ass. He didn't miss the irony in how grateful he was for the lubrication of Benji's come in him from earlier. Even so, it felt like he was being split open and he screamed as the invading organ bore into him. Vicious, tangled pain radiated from each thrust and it didn't take him long to realize that he'd been torn open. He supposed the resulting blood was a small mercy in that it lubed up his torturer's cock and made him come sooner.

Four other hunters took turns fucking his mouth and his ass. By the end, his face was covered in come and blood was running down the wood from his abused hole to the floor. His eyes had effectively been glued shut by the drying semen and only one nostril was open.

He heard the clink of the chain again and his feet were lowered to the floor. The spreader bar was removed and his sore hips fought against the movement as firm hands clamped around his ankles and layered his feet. His chest heaved with exhaustion and he didn't think he could scream anymore. But as the single spike dove into his flesh and secured the last of his freedom to the cross, he cried out again, a guttural sound of despair emanating directly from his soul. He prayed for a quick death but knew it would be denied to him.

The hunters lifted the cross so that is was standing vertically and gravity became his mortal enemy. The movement reopened the wounds in his wrists and he knew his labored breathing would probably prevent them from closing. It was a race between blood loss and suffocation. With the amount of blood he could feel dripping from his wrists, feet, and down the back of his legs, he was betting on blood loss. It took a few hours, but he wasn't wrong.


End file.
